Luke 16:19-31 (New International Version) The Rich Man and Lazarus

“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.

“The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’

“But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’

“He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’

“Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’

“‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’
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“He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”

     The lines would start hours before the doors opened. I’d noticed that myself when I happened to be driving through Augusta in the late afternoon the first year the overnight shelter was open at South Parish. When I called to check the hours myself so that I could refer someone there, the person I talked with confirmed for me that it was true. If you wanted one of the low-barrier beds, you had to get there early. Some shelters are low-barrier and others have certain standards you have to meet, like, you have to be sober when you get there. Intoxicated people can freeze, too, so it’s good to have some places they can go. There weren’t a lot of places for them to go in Augusta. When the church started thinking about using their building to help people without homes, it seemed important to create a space that was low barrier.

     When you’re trying to figure out how to be a good neighbor, it’s wise to look around and see what is actually needed. It became clear to South Parish, an historic, downtown church, that some people downtown needed some help. And, they had the right kind of space to offer it. And, importantly, they had leadership wise enough to reach out to people who were already doing the work for advice. That’s how they found out about the need for a low-barrier shelter.  It is no small thing to shift how you use a building, particularly if the use involves hosting people overnight. Many wise hands are part of that work. Thank goodness their church was able to work with good partners. They made a plan and got city buy-in. People started sharing money with them. They hired staff and started hosting people overnight.

     They’ve been open three seasons now, and every season they’ve been able to offer more beds. Their center manager Rob told us about some choices they have to make and how the make sure that they are clear on their goals. For example, as I said earlier, there was always a long line of people wanting bed before the doors opened. Center staff knew that the people who couldn’t get in still needed somewhere safe and warm to be. They realized that their primary goal was to have “heads in beds.” So, they shifted how they were using some of the space, removing a lounge area and reworking some other areas, and they made space for more beds. They didn’t have to turn people away because of space concerns after that.

     Not every part of this is easy. Rev. Nate Richards, South Parish’s pastor, Sarah Miller, who helped them organize the logistics of getting the shelter open, and Rob Flannery, the manager, all talked about the process of getting the doors open and keeping them open. Sometimes they have to ask people to leave because of behavior. Rob still tries to help them find the safest possible place to go. He says to them, “tomorrow’s another night. I hope we’ll see you then.” When someone who was asked to leave can come back and participate safely the next night, we’re seeing redemption in action. The warming center is a place of care and a place of consequences. Most importantly, it’s a place of second chances.

     Our siblings in Christ in Augusta looked to see who was at the gate, and figured out how to let them in. This is the core of the Gospel: understanding that God has called us to share our resources. Plenty of public buildings and spaces end up being used in ways that exclude people of the greatest needs. Hostile architecture is installed, giving people few places to sit comfortably and no places to lay down. Encampments where people have tried to make homes and communities are swept away, often taking away deeply impoverished people’s only and most important possessions. Journalists at ProPublica posted listed of things that people had had discarded: vital records like birth certificates, passports, pictures of family, medications, Bibles, letters from relatives, new clothes, even the cremains of loved ones, all gone. Throwing away people’s tents doesn’t suddenly make them wealthy enough to afford rent.

     Jesus talks about money a lot. He probably didn’t have much of it, nor did many of the people who came to hear him preach. Some did have money though. And Jesus had pretty clear instructions for them. Mitzi Smith laid some of them out in her commentary on today’s scripture. He tells them not to take the seats of the highest honor at meals (Luke 14:7). He also tells them to invite the poor, sick, and otherwise marginalized people to fancy parties they want to throw instead of other weather people who can return the invitation (Luke 14:21-24). He goes so far as to invite them to sell everything they have then give the proceeds to the poor (Luke 18:18-25). He commends one rich man who gives away half of his possessions and then makes restitution to the people he defrauded (19:1-10). Comparing the generosity of the wealthy and the very poor, he shames the rich who contribute gifts to the Temple from their wealth but give relatively little compared to what they have, while a poor widow gives more than she can afford to give (21:1-4).  

     Notice that the wealth in these cases is, at best, a tool to help someone else, and, at worst, a distraction. Today’s reading is a parable whereby a nameless rich man uses his money in ways that run counter to everything Jesus recommends. Things do not work out well for him. Had he been following Jesus’ teaching about how to use wealth, when he saw Lazarus begging at this gate, he would have let him in. He would have paid for his wounds to be treated. He would have made sure he had food and something to drink. In his commentary on the text, John T. Carroll points out that the rich man knows Lazarus well enough to know his name. He could have used that name to invite him into any one of his lavish banquets. But, he never did. The dogs offer more comfort than the rich man does.

     Carroll makes what I think is another important point in a commentary of his that Cheryl Lindsay cites. He says, “The separation between these two men, while extreme, is neither inevitable nor necessary and could have been bridged by the initiative of the rich man to open his gate and extend a generous hand.” The separation that began in life continued beyond it. Lazarus dies as many very poor people do, succumbing to starvation and illness likely made more severe by starvation. In death, though, he is comforted. Angels sweep him up to be by Abraham’s side. The rich man dies, too. Money may make it easier to stay alive but it cannot totally fend off death. The rich man ends up in Hades, the Underworld, where it is very hot and he has none of the comforts that made his life easier.
The rich man yells across the divide to Abraham for help, requesting that Lazarus give him few drops of water from his finger. Mitzi Smith notes that even in death the rich man treats Lazarus as a subordinate whose role is to make his life easier. Here comes the hard lesson: Abraham says that the rich man received good things in life and Lazarus had received evil. The reverse will now be true. Smith also notes, “God does not create poverty; human beings do. What humans create, humans can fix, if they so desire.” The conditions of this realm mirror the conditions of the next. This parable shows us that it is clearly better to use your money for care in this realm, at this moment. You absolutely can’t take it with you, and it protecting is likely burdening your soul more than you realize.

     The rich man finally realizes that he can use what he knows to help someone else and asks to be able to go warn his brothers not to be stingy as he was. Abraham declines, saying the brothers have access to all the teachings on justice and compassion that they could use. It is their responsibility to live according to the covenant. Abraham doubts that even someone returning from the dead will convince them to live justly if they’ve already opted to ignore their scripture (16:29-30).

     Our neighbors at South Parish are showing us every day what it’s like to pay attention to who is at the gate, and I am grateful for their witness. Let us not be like the one who refuses to learn from the scriptures set before us. Afterall, everyone in this room is closer to being Lazarus than they are to being a billionaire.  Let us not follow the path of the rich man who doesn’t even get a name in this story. Let us instead follow the example of our neighbors a couple towns over. Let us fling wide the gates, and make sure everyone has a seat at the table.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
​Mitzi Smith: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-26-3/commentary-on-luke-1619-31-6
John T. Carroll: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-26-3/commentary-on-luke-1619-31-10
More information about the warming shelter: https://southparishchurch.com/overnight-warming-center-1
Testimonies about what has been taken in sweeps:
https://projects.propublica.org/impact-of-homeless-sweeps-lost-belongings/
Some examples of hostile architecture: https://www.archute.com/hostile-architecture/
Cheryl Lindsay's commentary: https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-comfort-and-agony/

Luke 16:1-13 (New International Version) The Parable of the Shrewd Manager

Jesus told his disciples: “There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. So he called him in and asked him, ‘What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.’

“The manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg- I know what I’ll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.’

“So he called in each one of his master’s debtors. He asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’
“‘Nine hundred gallons of olive oil,’ he replied.
“The manager told him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred and fifty.’

“Then he asked the second, ‘And how much do you owe?’
“‘A thousand bushels[b] of wheat,’ he replied.
“He told him, ‘Take your bill and make it eight hundred.’

“The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.

“Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own?
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“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.”

     The last time I preached on this passage, I called it “the Parable about Surviving Slavery when You Are Put in Charge of Stuff.” John T. Carroll, in his commentary on the text, calls it “one of the most puzzling texts in the New Testament.” He’s not the only scholar I’ve read who has said that. As we know, the parables that Jesus uses when teaching are often complex. They often contain within them a surprise turn meant to highlight how the reign of God is different than the present age of the hearer. The surprise in this text is particularly surprising! Jesus seems to praise dishonest actions. This is why Carroll finds the parable puzzling.

     There's a rich guy in the story, a guy rich enough that he owns humans and has either purchased someone who is skilled in financial management or has trained him to manage his finances. Jesus tells us that someone has accused that enslaved manager of squandering the rich guy's money. The rich guy seemed to believe the accusations though it not clear if they actually are true. It is clear that rich man doesn’t trust the man he owns. The enslaver asks the manager for an account of his actions and then demotes him to more grueling work. The manager doesn’t refute the accusations. The scholar Mitzi Smith, in a commentary on this text, notes that enslaved people often were not trusted to tell the truth. In Rome, slaves weren’t allowed to give testimony in court, unless they were being tortured, because it was just assumed they would be dishonest. Perhaps the manager knew he wouldn’t be believed, so refutation wasn’t even worth his time. Instead, he decided that building a network of people who would help him would be the better use of his time and energy.

     He quickly went to two of the people who owed the enslaver money and changed the records of their transactions to say that they owed much less than they actually owed. After that, even though he'd already been demoted, it seems like he still had at least one meeting with the man who owned him about the money. That meeting is where the surprised happened.

     The rich man saw what the manager did in cutting down the amount people owed, an action that looks like him losing the enslaver quite a lot of income. In an odd turn of events: the rich man commends his former manager for reducing the outstanding bills. In his commentary on Luke, Fred Craddock notes that some scholars have argued that some slavers allowed the people they enslaved to have commissions from transactions they performed. It is possible, then, that the enslaved manager cut out his commission out of the invoice. But, if that were true, the enslaver wouldn’t then describe him as dishonest. Dishonesty isn’t giving up money you earned. Dishonesty is, however, changing records for a loss! Why would he praise the person he enslaved for taking money owed him?

     In verse eight, Jesus seemed to offer some kind of explanation for the rich man's commendation. Jesus said that "children of this age," that is, people who have not decided to live according to God's will, are much more adept at gaming the unjust system they live in for their own gain than the disciples are. Jesus seems to be telling his followers to start living with that level of wiliness and skill for survival. Generally speaking, “be willing to outsmart unscrupulous people” seems like not terrible advice, but, at the same time, Jesus usually tells his disciples to follow God’s rules, not live like the oppressive community around them. In the next verse, Jesus even seems to tell his followers that if they have wealth from shady sources, they should use it to buy influence with people who will take care of them later. What? What is he talking about?

     Now, some commentators have said that Jesus is taking this moment to explain to his followers how any possessions can be used for good purposes, even ill-gotten ones. After all, in the last several readings, Jesus has spent a lot of time justifying his close relationships with people who have plenty of dishonest money: tax collectors, other sinners, the occasional woman of ill repute. Maybe this is a story for folks who might think they can't take this money that they earned from the empire's systems and then turn around and use it for God's purposes. Or, maybe this is a story that is like those verses in Matthew where Jesus reminds his followers to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Wisdom comes from using what you have to make do: This manager makes do by using what he has, which is, the bills owed the rich man, and offers mercy others in hopes of receiving help later. This is the level of shrewdness Jesus believes his followers will need to survive.

     In the next four verses, 10-14, Jesus returns to describing a relationship with wealth that sounds like it is more in line with his mission in the rest of the Gospel: bring good news to the poor, proclaiming release to the captives, and proclaiming the Jubilee year of debt forgiveness. In verses 10-13, he seems to be saying that the wealth that we have right now, ultimately, is not the most important thing that we are entrusted with. There’s an underlying assumption that all wealth has likely come from cheating someone else. It is therefore untrustworthy, and pursuing wealth makes you more likely to justify taking advantage of people. Jesus argues that our "true riches" are our relationship with God and neighbor. We can demonstrate our faithfulness and wisdom with small things, like the dishonest wealth of the parable, in order to build the foundation for our commitment to the great thing, our relationship with God. 

     Ultimately, as difficult as it is to imagine, our money is the small thing that has been entrusted to us.  Our relationship with God and neighbor is the greatest thing that can be entrusted to us. Our relationship with the small thing of our wealth helps to shape the course of our greater relationship with God. In fact, our relationship with wealth should be a reflection of our faith. Jesus knew that then, just as now, it is too easy to become trapped in a system that tells us to value small things, like our money, more than big things, like our relationship with God and neighbor. Because money is such a powerful tool, it can also be easy to forget that as our primary concern, our relationship with God should be helping to guide how we use our money. When we forget that our relationships are our true riches, we can believe the lie that our wealth is the most important aspect of our lives, and we will turn our attention towards protecting it at all costs.

     Mitzi Smith, in her commentary on this text points out that it is the relationships the manager cultivates that he expects to be his salvation, not his work as a manager. He has assumed that the system that guides his owner, the dishonest system, will not offer him protection, even as he has to try to work in the midst of that system to figure out a way to survive. Could you have heard this parable and seen yourself in the place of the slave who has to find a way to survive? Could you have heard Jesus remind you that, even as you worked in the dishonest system, you could still find a way to shift those skills into honorable work with God? Would you hear the challenge to make God your ultimate guide, and not Caesar?

     We may not be enslaved managers, but we still are often faced with choices of how we will live out our values in our everyday lives. In fact, every day we are afforded a million small opportunities to allow our behavior to reflect our connection to God, including our behavior with money. I pray that we can each as ourselves, "When I make this choice, who am I really serving? The small things? Or, my God and my neighbor?"
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Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Fred Craddock, Luke (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).
Mitzi Smith: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4166
John T. Carroll: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-25-3/commentary-on-luke-161-13-6
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Scripture Reading: John 3:13-17 (New International Version)

“No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven- the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness,  so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.

          As I was looking for liturgy for today’s service, I noticed something that was strange enough that I had to walk out of my office and tell Cyndi about it. Today’s reading is from a conversation between Jesus and a man named Nicodemus. Nicodemus was a Pharisee. As I’ve mentioned before, Jesus and pharisees usually had a lot to talk about. They all valued their shared religious laws and wanted to teach people how to shape their lives according to God’s covenant. Nicodemus respects Jesus as a divinely inspired teacher. But, he also feels like he will be judged by his community for that respect. He’s afraid. When he goes to talk to Jesus, one on one, he goes under cover of darkness.

     Part of the conversation happens before our reading. In that conversation, they talk about what it means to follow God, to commit to living your life in a way that is so different that it feels like you have been born anew. They talk about the Spirit that is like the wind, you can’t see it, but you can hear it. And, it moves without you knowing where it comes from. Nicodemus said that “no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Nicodemus has seen something in Jesus that has moved him. We are watching him try to figure out what to do with what his heart informed by his eyes is telling him to do. Who here hasn’t been in Nicodemus’ shoes, trying to figure out what it means to really change your life the way you’re starting to feel like you need to? You might have even had some late-night talks with Jesus about it.

     Jesus does appear to be surprised at Nicodemus’ moral and ethical quandaries. He was a Pharisee. Figuring out how to follow God was his life’s work! Jesus kind of tells him that he would have expected a teacher of Israel to understand things more clearly. “If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?” Ouch, right? The thing that comes after that part is what really catches my attention every time I read this. It is among the wildest, oddest references to the Hebrew Scriptures that I can think of in any Gospel. “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” What. What even is Jesus talking about with this serpent?

     It’s a story from the book of Numbers (chapter 21). That’s where Moses and the Serpent come from. Jennifer Garcia Bashaw gives a helpful, short description of that story in her commentary on this text. I’m going to try to shorten the description even more. It’s a story from the Exile in the Wilderness. God lets loose a plague of venomous snakes among the Israelites as punishment for their “grumbling and unfaithfulness.” Lots of people get bit and lots of people die. Out of fear and desperation, they repent and ask Moses for help. He intercedes with God, who directs him to build a big bronze snake for them to look at. When envenomated people look at the snake, they are healed.

     It is times like this that I feel some kindred spirit with the writers of the Gospel. I can see so clearly the writerly work of having an idea that is unclear and looking around for an example to explain a complicated idea. It is possible that this Numbers allusion came straight from Jesus. That being said, no Gospel is a direct transcription of Jesus’ words, and he doesn’t say this in any other Gospel. Whether this story was wrangled from the Hebrew Bible from a writer who wanted to add something to Jesus’ words to try to explain them or if Jesus himself pulled this metaphor out of his copious knowledge of Hebrew scripture, it’s still seems to me an odd choice. Of all the Moses stories, why this one?

     I once asked a rabbi friend about this story. She agreed with me: “It’s a weird story.” I asked her if she knew of any time when this serpent story might have been more important or shared more widely in Jewish circles. She didn’t. How many of you, when you think of Moses, think of this serpent? Unless you’ve heard the three other times that I’ve preached on this, I’m gonna bet this is not a go to Moses story for you! Once more, the “Jesus is like that bronze snake” never became one of the most important metaphors for how Christians understand Jesus.

     When I was looking for pre-written prayers and liturgy based on today’s reading for service, I notice that none of them mentioned the serpent. This is what I had to tell Cyndi about when I noticed it. While I didn’t study every piece of Christian liturgy ever written, I did look at a couple sites where pastors share things they write. I saw lots of references to the Spirit blowing like the wind, and to being born again. I saw lots of references to John 3:16, which is all over the place really (even, as Bashaw points out, on the bottom of some fast food hamburgers) and the cross. I saw nothing about this snake. The Spirit and the Cross. No snake in any one prayer or litany.

     But the snake is right there! How do you not talk about it? Interestingly, when I was looking for a recording of the one hymn that mentions the snake, YouTube started feeding me fundamentalist sermons on the Numbers text. It made me think that the people most comfortable with this story are people really interested in a God who punishes people. People who think of God as first a disciplinarian might not think twice about God using snakes to punish people. The Moses story is odd to me, in part, because it is so vindictive. It is also odd because it seems so.... magical, I guess. It’s different from a regular miracle. It seems like a magical snake talisman leftover from some very ancient tradition. Among Protestants especially, who get a little worried about art inspired by God being mistaken for art that is God, God’s odd behavior and remedy for annoyance with whiners is just easier to not talk about. Let’s skip to the salvation. The cross I understand.

     James Baldwin once said, “Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” It is often easier to pretend like something strange or upsetting doesn’t exist. The act of not-talking about something almost never makes it go away, be it your inner misgivings about the stances your closest confidantes are taking or the transformation that is happening in your soul because you saw something new that made you doubt what you previously believed. The snake is still here, even if we’d rather talk about the Spirit or the Cross.

     We are in multiple national conversations right now about the kinds of stories we tell and what to do about ones that make us uncomfortable. We have watched in real time this week as people have spun all manner of stories in response to political violence. In one day, there were multiple murders, two incidences of which usually make national news: the assassination of a Christian nationalist speaker by young man who also appears to be a different kind of right-wing fascist in Utah and a school shooting in Denver. Some people don’t even know about what happened at the school in Denver. Some people only know the wildest conspiracy theories about what happened in Utah.

     In a country that all too often has seen violence used as a political tool and where mass shootings, in particular, are often justified by violent political ideology, it seems clear that there is something that must be faced if we want to change it. We’ve got to talk about the snake, or we’re never going to understand it. Bashaw argues that the serpent in the book of Numbers is “a mirrored representation of the poisonous destruction [the Israelites] faced from the poisonous serpents. The source of their death became the agent of their healing and survival. So it is with the cross.” The Cross was a tool of torture wielded by Rome to punish people into compliance with their rule. It was also a spectacle that on-lookers observed and that people in authority participated in. The stories of the cross show us scapegoating and fearfulness and the sacrifice of innocence.

     Bashaw argues, then, that within the mirror of the cross, we can see reflecting back to us sacrificial love that is the opposite of the empire’s violence. Seeing the cross means recognizing that there is a cycle of blame and violence that we need no longer repeat. We have to see the cycle to stop it. The cross reminds us that we can stop it.

     Bashaw says, “We cannot be healed from a disease that remains hidden.” Let us not be afraid to speak clearly of the odd and uncomfortable stories we inherit. Our silence will not make them go away. And, as Karoline Lewis notes, Jesus was always willing to face hard conversations, even furtive ones in the dark. May we look to him to help us find healing.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Jennifer Garcia Bashaw: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/holy-cross-sunday/commentary-on-john-313-17-2
James Baldwin quote: https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/acref/9780191843730.001.0001/q-oro-ed5-00000730
​Karoline Lewis: https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=4693

​Scripture: Luke 14: 1, 7-14 Jesus at a Pharisee’s House ​(New International Version) 

One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched.

When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable:  “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place, But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

     “We’re not your fancy friends,” I said to a friend who was a little worried that what she was feeding us, canned pasta sauce, wasn’t up to her typical standards. If we were in her house, instead of the cabin her family had borrowed, she would have made something homemade and complicated and extra delicious. I assured her that we are happy to eat canned pasta sauce. We have some in pantry at our house right now. I said “we’re not your fancy friends” because I wanted to be clear that we don’t have to be invited to eat fancy food to feel welcome. Canned pasta is just fine all the time, but especially among friends.

     We’d actually had dinner with some fancier friends a few weeks ago. Dinner involved pre-dinner drinks, there were multiple forks, fabric napkins, and nice wine glasses.  People talked about their wine cellars, trips abroad, and what classical music they were enjoying at the moment. While Tasha and I have been solidly middle class for a while now, we do not come from multiple fork and wine cellar people. And yet, we were welcomed and included, though we only knew the host family and one other attendee. The people we met for the first time asked about us, our work, and our pets. And, the hosts, who are friends who know I have developed some annoying food sensitivities, always make sure that there is food that I can eat and make changes to parts of the meal so I can have something comparable to what everyone else is having. They know that being good hosts means everybody gets to eat, and having special needs with your food doesn’t stop you from being invited.

     How does one offer hospitality? How does one receive hospitality? These are common questions in the book of Luke. In his commentary on this text, E. Trey Clark notes that Jesus is often found eating with people from across all kinds of backgrounds in the book of Luke. When you are often invited to people’s homes to eat, particularly if you live in a culture that values hospitality, as Jesus and his disciples did, it is wise to think about being a good guest. When you often end up feeding people, as Jesus did, it is wise to think about being a good host. Today’s reading is from a time when Jesus was a guest of a Pharisee. As Clark notes in his commentary, this meal was shared among people who took their faith seriously, but also felt free to disagree with each other about their interpretations of their faith quite out loud and quite clearly. The religious leaders are watching Jesus closely because they know that they all have a conflicted history. As Clark points how, Jesus is watching them, too. He’s paying attention to how they are guests.

     Even in a Jewish home, the people attending the meal would have likely been seated in Greco-Roman fashion, reclining at a low U-shaped table. Clark points out that the attendees would have been assigned seats based on how high or low their social standing was. Fancy guests up by the host. Less fancy guests farther away. It would be deeply embarrassing to be asked to move away from a fancy seat by your host.

     Looking around at what Clark argues would likely have been a table full of people of relatively high status, he tells them not to exalt themselves. Rather, they should assume a humble status. Clark is also quick to point out that Jesus isn’t telling low status people to stay in their place. Instead, he is pointing out that a life following his understanding of faith is less concerned with what Clark calls “climbing the social ladder” than it is about adjusting our behavior to the contours of the kindom of God.

     The kindom of God is less concerned about using meals to network and move up in the world than it is about making sure that all people are fed. So, Jesus said to invite people to come eat who have nothing to offer you other than their presence. Invite people who will come and it will be of no social benefit to you. Clark argues that this big table full of humble powerful people and welcome marginalized people will help us see a glimpse of heaven. In a couple verses after today’s, Jesus will tell a parable about something scholars call an “eschatological banquet.” In those verses, (Luke 14: 15-24). In that feast, the powerful don’t think they need to come, so the host invites the powerless instead. It is clear that the faithful are the ones who understand how to be a good guest. God’s got a big table. There is always room, but the seating is first open to those who are hungry. Everyone else can fill in after. But, you have to be willing to show up.

     My mom called me yesterday to tell me about a meal she thinks I would have wanted to be a part of. She was right. I would have wanted to be there. She’d stopped in to see my grandmother for a bit, who lives in a small nursing home that is constructed to be like a residential home in a neighborhood. After helping granny lay down for her post-breakfast nap, mom started planning for lunch. She already had a little bit of a kind of soup called menudo. It is a traditional Mexican tripe soup that she came to love when working at a little Mexican restaurant after first moving back to Texas almost 25 years ago. Several of the CNAs and kitchen staff who work in the nursing home are from Mexico. She asked them if they liked the menudo she had with her, which she had gotten at a local grocery store. They did! So, she decided to get some to share when she went to pick up a prescription for my grandmother.

     Mom got back with a big container of menudo. While she was gone, the staff had produced a container of delicious, home-made, face-meltingly spicy hot sauce to eat with it. When she told me the story, she didn’t know if they’d whipped it up right there in the kitchen or had brought it in for their own lunches. Either way, they wanted to share it with her to eat with the menudo. So, my mom and a bunch of women who work at the facility all crowded around the table, talking, laughing, and eating. My mom even tried the hot sauce, much to their delight. She wasn’t constitutionally prepared for more than just a taste, but they were so glad she tried.

     I’m so glad these folks are there taking care of my grandmother. As you know, it is challenging to work in nursing homes. And, it can be challenging to get good care in far too many facilities. I know that my granny is as safe and as healthy as she can be because these folks who brought the hot sauce and my mom who brought the soup take her care seriously. I also know that their lives are precarious. Not only is the work physically and emotionally demanding, most of the staff in the facility are on work visas. Though they are here legally, as we well know, plenty of legal immigrants are being targeted for harassment and deportation. I worry for their safety if they are outside of the facility where they work.

     The employees of this facility are guests and hosts, invited here to work, making sure the residents of the facility have safe and nutritious food and help to eat. In this moment in our nation when questions of hospitality and welcome are at the forefront, we ought to consider this time as an invitation to remember the responsibility of the host to make welcome and of other guests to be humble, especially with regards to people who provide necessary and underappreciated work, like personal care work. Jesus didn’t direct his disciples to play bouncer to decide who gets a seat at the table. He invited those of us with a measure of privilege to presume that someone else needs to be seated closer to him than we do. There’s enough food for all if only we share it. Let’s make sure everyone knows they are invited, and that there is room to spare.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
​E. Trey Clark: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-22-3/commentary-on-luke-141-7-14-6